I'm the Catalan pilgrim that finished the St. Olav's Way a couple of days ago and didn't die during the journey drowned by the snow (or the melting snow in form of tons of water. Everything was OK, except that I forgot to bring a submarine).

Just a couple of updates for future references, maybe. Hamar Vandrerhjem is more an expensive Motel than a Hostel, and they don't care if you're a pilgrim or a sailor in a submarine. I found Sejersted Pensjonat in Hamar downtowm a much better option. In Svorkmo, both John Solem and Øystein Antonsen, from the Skytterhus, were that day much more interested in the final match on Ice Hockey between Norway and Canada than in a single pilgrim passing by, so no key for the hut. And I had to add a lot of kilometers because there is not a lodge alternative there.

I would like to mention also some very good people and their lodges who are not in your guide and that were a great help to me. I think they could help also future pilgrims. They are Gjestebu Overnating in Lillehammer, and further north, Magelli Camping, Furuhaugli Turisthytte and, specially, the wonderful lady owner from Langklopp Fjellgård.

Finally, a global reflexion on the Road to Nidaros: I did come a little bit early. It was going to be "hard but beautiful". And it was. If I had to do it again, I'll do it, without any doubt. But I think the best moment would be a month latter, beginning at the end of May, in spite of April.

That, or bringing in the submarine.

PD:
One on the many fabulous moments, apart form the one I did already commented to Eivind Luthen on the phone, (a man I have never met, calling me by my name, and inviting me to cake and coffee at his home because of the notice of the first pilgrim of 2008 in the local paper) happened to me last Sunday, coming back from Trondheim.

For 30 days I walked in the rain, fall knee-deep in the snow and submerged myself in the watter (no submarine) making no noise, all my five sens alert, in order to see some musk, that kind of prehistoric ison you have in Norway. I saw no musk at all. Not a single one.

Last Sunday, coming back from Trondheim, on the train, just before Kongsvold, the conductor reduced the speed of the engine and said, in Norwegian and English, to look on the right hand side for possible musks. A couple of minutes passed, and then I heard an American girl accent saying with admiration: "Oh, my God, they are HUGE!"...

And there they were, it seems, not far from the railway.

I say "it seems" because I was seated... on the LEFT hand side of the convoy.

Well, life is a pilgrimage. And we are all pilgrims.

Best regards,
Joan Nogués.

May, 2008